Page 42 of Breathe Me In

“Hey, roomie.” Brad appeared suddenly in the doorway.

“Shit, crap!” I jumped about a foot as he flashed me a killer smile.

“Sorry to scare ya—must have been your campfire story.” He looked at me as he kicked off his boots and reached back to pull his T-shirt off.

I tipped my head back and looked up at the roof as my heart fought to stay in my chest. Then I cried internally. Seriously, fate? This is what you toss at me? His gorgeous body screamed hockey player.

I cleared my throat. “Your tent is next door.”

“No one saw me come in, I promise.” He tucked his hands under his head as he lay back in his bed. “The lumbar support in this one is spot on too,” he teased and grinned at me, then his face softened. “I know you don’t really want to be alone out here.”

“Whatever.” I pulled my blankets up to my chin, not addressing what he’d just stated, because he was right. “Just stay over there.” I waited to see what he’d do. I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to do. My stomach clenched at the thought of him above me, and my body heated with desire. I could hear him breathing, but as I lay there and argued with myself over what I wanted, I felt my own eyes grow heavy.

I slipped off to an uneasy sleep.

The frozen ground pained my feet. The branches ripped at my skin as I whirled around to see if he still followed me. Condensation puffed a misty cloud in front of my face as I tried to catch my breath. I knew he was there; I could feel him. I strained to listen, but the ringing in my ears blocked out my ability to hear.

Keep moving! I screamed at myself and suddenly tuned into what I was wearing. I was in her white dress. The woman from the river. I could see her open, unblinking eyes even as the water flowed over one of them. My hands were covered in blood, then I felt the warmth from the blood on my neck. Wait, what?

“Bree!” The Barbed Wire Killer hissed at me like a snake, and I jolted awake with a yelp.

Arms reached out to touch me, and I fought back, still consumed by my dream. “No!” I screamed, but a hand clamped over my mouth and pushed me back into the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that whatever was about to happen would happen quickly.

“Hey,” Brad’s voice cut through my panic. “Stop. It’s me.” Slowly, his words registered, and I felt my heart’s rhythm break its wild pace. “Bree, look at me.” He pushed my flailing arms above my head and pinned me there as he eased onto my bed.

“Yeah.” I blinked away the horrific dream and let the tears of relief flow. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” He looked at me, confused, as he kept a tight hold on my wrists. “Sorry you had a nightmare?” He spoke quietly. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about except maybe for giving me a black eye.” He smiled in the low light and slowly released my wrists. I brushed my hair off my face. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Okay.” He reached down and pulled the blanket up over me. Then, to my surprise, he leaned over me to turn down the lantern to a soft glow, then settled in next to me.

I forced the painful lump down my throat as the darkness crept back in around us. “I don’t . . .” I barely had a voice. “I don’t normally sleep after this point,” I confessed. I could feel the warmth of him where he lay against my frozen body, and I fought not to roll over into him.

“Is this an every-night thing?”

I tensed up again because I’d lived alone with the truth for so long. I’d tried to even keep it from Dale—not that it ever helped. It only caused more problems in the long run. The unsteady breath that shot from deep inside gave him the answer.

“Christ, Bree, you must be exhausted.” The bed shook as he turned on his side toward me. I could feel his warm breath in my face, and his bare chest touched my arm. “Can I ask you something at the risk of upsetting you?”

I didn’t answer; I didn’t want to. I realized it was the first time since that day at the river that I didn’t feel completely alone. It was so nice to have him there when I woke from that terrible nightmare.

“Kennedy told me that the guys brought up the whole Barbed Wire Killer thing.” Brad’s voice sounded tentative.

I studied him for a moment. “Don’t you struggle with it?”

“Well, no, I’ve found a way to deal with it.”

“By marrying Sherry?” I snapped but instantly regretted it when he looked away. “Sorry.”

He leaned his weight on his elbow. “By playing hockey.” His tone was less than impressed with my insult. “Are you all right? Bree? Kennedy said—”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.” He just cleared his throat, and it pissed me off.

I let myself ask before I could stop the one question that had been on my mind for years. “Have you ever heard from him?”